


Let Not Man Put Asunder

by CydSA



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-22
Updated: 2011-10-22
Packaged: 2017-10-24 21:06:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/267882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CydSA/pseuds/CydSA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>set after Season 6 Episode 22 - something is making Castiel remember the humans he’s left behind. He feels the urge to make amends but Dean is not in a forgiving mood. Things are not as they seem though because <i>is</i> Castiel truly the new god or has the long-absent Father of All finally returned to reclaim His place in heaven?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Not Man Put Asunder

Dean ignored Sam’s pissy face as he reached into the trunk for a shotgun.

“Salt will not get rid of this ghost, Dean,” Sam repeated for about the gazillionth time as Dean tucked his 9mm into his waistband, proud of the fact that he hadn’t flipped Sam off.

“Salt gets all ghosts, Sammy,” Dean told him and strode into the dark house. Sam made some sort of constipated sound behind him before following him. Sammy could always be counted on to follow him.

The ghost was an old one, dug into the walls and floors of the house. Bobby had asked Sam and Dean to check it out for a friend before she bought it. Dean wondered just how close this friend was and then flinched; thinking about Bobby with a woman was like imagining his parents having sex and just no…no…no.

The ghost was suddenly in his face, ice-cold and screaming. Dean lifted the shotgun, pumped the spectre full of salt and then gaped when it laughed at him. As it sent him flying through the air he swore that he would kick Sam’s ass if he even hinted at saying ‘I told you so’.

He shook his head to dissipate the ringing in his ears. The smell of smoke caught his attention and he looked over to see Sam with a burning picture frame. He knew Sam would be bitching at him forever. “Lucky guess!” he yelled.

The sound of the ghost’s wails was music to Dean’s ear and he watched in satisfaction as the entity exploded into a million tiny pieces of ectoplasm and went wherever it was that evil ghosts went.

He grunted when Sam came over and hauled him to his feet. “I guess my distraction worked then huh?” he grinned at Sam who rolled his eyes.

“You’re a moron,” Sam informed him.

“I’m awesome,” Dean agreed. They headed out into the night and Dean called Bobby. “It’s done,” he said, not bothering with niceties.

“You two idjits still alive then?” Bobby asked and Dean knew that he said it with love.

“Sammy got the easy job,” Dean told him and ignored Sam’s snort. “I took one for the team.”

“My hero,” Bobby said and now, Dean was almost sure he was being sarcastic. “You’d better come on home now.”

Dean smiled to himself. Bobby’s place was as close to a home base he and Sam had ever had and home sounded really good after these last few months. “Yeah,” he said, “we’re on our way.” He ended the call and tossed the shotgun into the truck.

Sam glared at him and then went to put the gun in its proper place. Dean pulled two beers out of the cooler, tossed one to Sam and toasted him. “To a job well done, Sammy.”

Sam popped the top and took a deep gulp. “To not getting killed, Dean.”

Dean drank deeply and ignored Sam’s pinched expression. “All under control and carefully planned,” he said and smacked his lips. God, beer was like the nectar of the gods.

“Sure,” Sam said and Dean was totally sure he was being sarcastic.

“Bobby said we should head back home,” Dean told him when he’d finished the last of his beer.

Sam nodded and being the good little environmentally aware nerd-boy that he was, took their bottles and put them back into the cooler. “Let’s get going then,” he said and levered his long frame into the passenger’s seat.

Dean started the Impala and pointed her towards Bobby’s.

And Dean didn’t think about Cas.

********************************

Bobby was asleep by the time they arrived. Dean just nodded a goodnight to Sam as they headed for the rooms that they’d always considered theirs.

Dean toed off his boots and debated having a shower. He lifted an arm and smelled his armpit experimentally, lip curling at the smell of day-old sweat. He headed for the bathroom, shucking his shirt and jeans before putting the shower on. He thought again about fixing up the bathroom, installing one of those decadent rainfall showerheads that made him want to promise things to anyone who would just let him wallow beneath it for a while.

He closed his eyes and leaned a hand against the cold tiles, the hot water washing away the hunt and the sweat and the tension, leaving a slow lassitude in its place that made his eyes close.

He allowed himself to enjoy the heat for a minute or so, relish the sense of his muscles loosening, relaxing for the first time in days. He grabbed the soap and started scrubbing at his skin, loving the sensation of the hunt draining away. He gave his dick a lazy stroke and patted it absently when the bone-deep exhaustion allowed it only to give a small twitch.

He switched off the water, wrapped a towel around his waist and brushed his teeth, looking at himself in the mirror. He’d collected a few new scars to replace the ones that had vanished on his return from Hell. He flat-out ignored the handprint on his shoulder.

He went back to his room, dried himself off and pulled on a pair of boxers before he tumbled onto the bed, tugged the comforter up to his chest and folded his arms across the top of it. He watched the moonlight paint shadows on the ceiling, eyes burning a little from the sheer exhaustion of the day and then eventually let his lids drop, shutting out the last bit of light.

And Dean didn’t think about Cas.

********************************

He dreamed the same thing every night. Castiel standing in front of him, Sam and Bobby, his deep blue eyes remote and terrible and pronouncing, “I am your new god, a better one. You will worship me or be destroyed.”

Dean woke up every night gasping, face wet with tears and heart aching in his chest.

He remembered Cas telling them that he had no family and it made something inside him hurt.

He closed his eyes again, willing the memories away but for whatever reason, tonight they wouldn’t be ignored. He remembered their flight from Cas and his army as well as Sam’s long, excruciatingly painful road to recovery and he ached.

It had been months since they’d last seen Castiel. Months since Sam had fought to stay sane. Most of the time Sam had sat in one place, eyes glassy and staring, mouth open in a silent scream. Dean had taken a couple of odd jobs but couldn’t bring himself to stay away from Sam for too long.

Help had come via an unexpected source.

Death came calling.

Skin cadaver tight across those sharp cheekbones, Death had looked at Sam - silent, shaking Sam - and sighed. “I can see that you scratched the wall, Sam.”

Dean hadn’t let that one stand. “Angel, Castiel…” he’d said and it had been all that was needed.

Death had looked at him then, eyes pitiless and cold. “And I should help you once more because..?” and he’d let the question taper off as though he knew Dean could offer nothing in exchange.

“You put the wall up once,” Dean had said desperately. “Can you do it again?”

Death’s head was shaking before he’d even finished asked the question. “No, Dean, I warned you.”

“But he didn’t scratch it!” Dean had protested. “It was ripped away from him and he didn’t have a choice.” His gaze had gone to Sam who’d looked up at them with wild eyes. “Please,” Dean had begged.

Death had wrapped both hands around the silver wolf’s head handle of his walking stick and considered them both. “I’ve done more to help you two than I have for all of humanity in my previous existence,” he’d said idly, long fingers flexing on the handle.

“Just one more thing, please,” Dean had asked and his eyes had filled with tears that he would deny to his dying day.

“Because it wasn’t his choice,” Death had said. He’d stood then and walked over to Sam who hadn’t moved, his mouth tight and shoulders tense. “Take a deep breath, Sam,” Death had instructed and put his hand on Sam’s forehead.

For a moment Dean had seen nothing and then he’d seen a silver light shine from beneath Death’s hand. Sam’s head had gone back and his body had bowed out and the noise that had seemed ripped from his throat had sounded human. A moment later Sam’s eyes had closed and he’d slumped forward in his chair.

“What did you do?” Dean had asked once Death had stepped back.

“I could not replace the wall,” Death had told Dean as he started pulling on his gloves. “What I did was make the memory of his time in Hell feel like a dream.” Dean had wanted to ask more but had shut his mouth when Death had turned that pitiless gaze on him again. “This will be the last time you see me on this side of the veil, Dean Winchester.”

“Thank you,” Dean had said and Death had vanished as silently as he’d arrived.

Sam had slept for almost a day until he’d opened his eyes and had been better. They’d talked about the ‘memories’ of Hell. Dean had eventually told Sam that he was going to charge him shrink fees but he’d been so happy to see Sam almost well again.

“Cas promised that he’d come back and make it right with me,” Sam had said once, voice soft and unbearably sad.

“Cas said a lot of things,” Dean had growled, jaw tight with anger. “Cas lied. Angels are dicks and they all lie.”

“You should call him,” Sam had said, “try to fix things.”

He’d punched Sam and walked away. Cas wasn’t mentioned again.

The world went on. Demons still possessed people, vampires still drank blood, ghosts still haunted houses and the Winchesters still hunted them all.

The only thing that seemed to change was that there were no more angels around. Not that Dean had a clue how to find out if they were.

Balthazar and Raphael were dead. Michael and Lucifer were in the cage. Castiel was the new god in heaven. All seemed right with the world.

Except it wasn’t. There were still wars and earthquakes, pestilences and tsunamis. There were still werewolves, witches and wendigos. There were still attacks, murders and disappearances.

And Dean didn’t think about Cas.

********************************

A year after Castiel became the new god; he looked down from Heaven and saw the human race scurrying around on earth. Something twisted inside, a memory of being there on that dusty planet, living among them. The memory of it was like a cloud though; it kept moving away, just staying out of reach.

There was something there - a recollection of green eyes and freckled skin, of laughter and tears, of love. Castiel stretched out to grab the memory but it would not be caught.

He looked around and saw his children, the angels, kneeling before his throne and was dissatisfied. This wasn’t how he’d expected things to be. They were terrified of him, cowing before him and worshiping him through fear and not love.

He frowned. There was that word again. Love. He was God, he had no need of love, only obedience and yet...

“Did you want me to get you anything, Lord?” Heman bowed to him and Castiel saw that his eyes were frightened.

“No,” Castiel murmured and turned his gaze back down to the earth. “I have a question for you though.”

“Yes Lord?” Heman kept his face downcast, making Castiel sigh.

“Do you love me?” he asked and watched Heman’s face closely.

“Of course I do, Lord,” Heman assured him but the quiver in his tone said he spoke untruth.

“Did you love me before I was God?” Castiel asked.

This time Heman’s gaze flashed up and he appeared confused. “Lord?”

“Before, when I was just Castiel, your brother, did you love me?”

Heman opened his mouth to reply and then shut it again. “You may speak your truth,” Castiel assured him. “Whatever you say will be treated as confession and there will be no punishment.”

Heman took a breath. “When you were merely one of us, you were not the most loved of all the brethren,” he admitted. “Your love for men, Dean Winchester in particular, made you weak and vulnerable.”

 _Dean_ The elusive memory took shape then and a face coalesced in his mind. Beautiful beyond all bearing, grass green eyes, curved and laughing mouth. _Dean_

“I loved this human?” Castiel asked, his mind still focused on the face of the man in his memory.

“More than all of us,” Heman affirmed.

“More than God?” Castiel asked and his voice was dry and terrible.

Heman flinched. “More than anything.” His eyes dropped again. “We thought you would give up your immortality to be with him but instead you chose to return to Heaven and give us a god to worship once more.”

Castiel wondered about that. He wondered what had made him choose to leave this human whom he loved. “Why did I deny him?” He can’t remember life before being the new god.

“I do not know, Lord,” Heman admitted.

“I should go to him,” Castiel said.

“Lord?” Heman appeared confused. “You would go down to the realm of mortals?”

Castiel nodded, and his focus was on the face in his memory. “I would know this man, this Dean Winchester.”

“But you’re God,” Heman protested. “You know all!”

“I’m not the Almighty,” Castiel chided. “I am still a young god and must still learn much. I am not all-seeing, all-knowing.” He felt his mouth curve in a smile for the first time in a very long time. “Not yet, anyway.”

His gaze turned back to the earth. “Tell me about Dean Winchester,” he ordered.

Heman went pale. “Lord, I’m not sure…”

Castiel just looked at him, mild and terrible and Heman bowed. “He is a hunter, Lord.”

There was a flash in Castiel’s mind and a memory of the man with green eyes reciting the incantation to expel a demon. “His Latin is poor,” he murmured and then waved Heman to continue.

“He and his brother Sam come from a line of hunters,” Heman told him.

Again, a flash of memory and he saw himself touching his hand to the forehead of a tall man. The man crumpled to his feet and Castiel’s gaze met that of Dean’s. “I will return and heal Sam when everything is over,” he told Dean before he left.

“I did not keep my word to him,” Castiel noted. There was a twinge of something deep within him. Something that felt suspiciously like guilt.

“You are God,” Heman pointed out. “You answer to no one.”

Castiel shook his head. “We all answer to someone, Heman, even I.”

“But you’re God,” Heman repeated.

“Yes,” Castiel agreed and there was another memory. This time the man Dean was begging him to give up the souls that he’d received from Purgatory. “I have no family,” that Castiel told Dean and there was regret in his voice.

“Please, Cas,” Dean had begged and his eyes were glassy with sorrow.

“I am your new god, a better one,” Castiel had told him, ignoring the plea. “You will worship me or be destroyed.”

The memory faded and Castiel looked at Heman. “I have not behaved as God should,” he admitted and yes, that emotion eating at him _was_ guilt.

“What can I do to aid you, Lord?” Heman asked and it made Castiel grateful for this one angel who had been afraid of him but somehow had learned to speak truth when needed.

“I must go to him,” Castiel said. “I must make amends.”

Heman appeared doubtful. “He has not prayed in a very long time, Lord.” His eyes were troubled. “I do not think that he believes in you.”

Castiel sighed. “He believes in who I was and not in who I am,” he told Heman. “I have caused great harm to his soul.”

“Do you wish me to procure you a vessel?” Heman didn’t continue trying to dissuade him from his course.

Castiel shook his head. “I will take the form of the mortal who bore my essence when I was an angel,” he said. “Dean will know who I am.”

“Will he forgive you?” Heman cut straight to the heart of what was worrying Castiel.

“He must, or I am not the god I should be,” Castiel said and took his first step towards redemption.

And Castiel thought only of Dean.

********************************

Dean watched Sam exorcise the demon. The black smoke poured out of the kid’s mouth and punched through the ceiling.

He knelt down beside the boy and felt for a pulse. His mouth tightened when he couldn’t find anything and he shook his head at Sam.

“Fuck,” Sam said, his shoulders slumped.

“Yeah,” Dean sighed. He hoisted the body up into a fireman’s carry and went outside. The fire was blazing and he and Sam swung the body onto the pyre, sending sparks scattering.

“That’s the fourth lot we’ve found in a month,” Sam said, his mouth tight.

“Something’s going on,” Dean agreed and he scanned the horizon. “I just don’t know what.”

Sam’s phone rang. “Hey Bobby,” he greeted and went pale. “What the hell?” Bobby was obviously really excited about whatever the hell it was he was talking about because Dean could hear him shouting through the phone and Sam kept trying to interrupt with questions. Dean waited impatiently.

When Sam dropped the call, he was even paler. “What the fuck was that about?” Dean demanded.

“Cas is at Bobby’s,” Sam said.

“What the fuck?” Dean asked but he was heading for the Impala before he’d finished talking.

Sam slid into the passenger seat and Dean peeled off, tires burning as he hit the accelerator. “Tell me what he said,” Dean ordered.

Sam took a breath. “He said something about Cas showing up and asking for you and then Bobby told him to fuck off because he wasn’t killing you and then, god,” Sam rubbed at his eyes.

“What?” Dean asked, flicking a glance over to his brother.

“He said Cas asked for his forgiveness.” Sam’s eyes were wide as they met his.

“Holy shit,” Dean breathed and there was just a small ounce of hope that flickered deep within him, a hope that his friend had returned to him. “Did Bobby say whether he was still all ‘Godstiel’ on us?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

Sam shook his head. “He didn’t want to say anything more, just told us to get home as quickly as possible. Oh and he brought a date.” Sam shook his head when Dean stared at him. “Bobby’s words, not mine, dude.”

Dean decided to focus on the job at hand and mentally calculated the distance to Sioux Falls, South Dakota. “We’ll be there before morning,” he told Sam.

“Wake me in four hours, I’ll take the next shift,” Sam said and closed his eyes.

Dean watched the scenery flashing by as he floored it. He didn’t even want to guess what had prompted Castiel to show up now. It could only be bad news.

He looked over at Sam and felt the familiar anger rise up at the memory of his brother’s struggle to stay sane thanks to Castiel. He didn’t know if there was anything Cas could say, any apology or explanation that would be good enough for Dean.

Sam made a noise in his sleep and turned his face to the window, shoulders hunching as though avoiding a blow. Dean reached out and put his hand on Sam’s leg. He left it there, only moving it when Sam curled up and lay down, cheek smashed against Dean’s thigh. Then Dean’s fingers went to the soft hair and he rested his palm on Sam’s head.

He didn’t wake him up.

********************************

Castiel asked Bobby whether he should go and fetch the Winchesters. Bobby glared at him. “You let them get here on their own steam,” he ordered. “You’ve done enough interfering.”

Castiel felt an urge to smite something but he kept his counsel, looking at Mihr. He’d decided that one attendant would be sufficient and had brought the angel of mercy with him. Mihr had never been to earth, spending all of her time in the holy of holies, extending mercies to those granted.

“Paper feels different to what I expected,” she said and her eyes were wide as she stroked a palm across a page of one of Bobby’s books.

Castiel looked out of the window, waiting for the sound of an approaching car. “Being on the mortal plane is an experience every angel should have at least once.” He was distracted though and turned to Bobby. “Where are they?”

His memories had come flooding back as though a wall had crashed down. He couldn’t understand why now or how he’d forgotten Bobby and Sam and Dean. _Dean_

“On their way,” Bobby said from his seat at the desk. He had been working his way steadily though a bottle of Johnny Walker. “Take a seat,” he indicated a worn sofa. “You’re making me nervous.”

Castiel looked at him, confused. “Why would I make you nervous?” he asked. “I am here to make amends.”

Bobby snorted. “You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t trust you, Cas,” he said and tossed back the shot of whiskey. “The last time I saw you, you were a little terrifying.”

“I made a mistake in threatening you,” Castiel admitted. “God should be loved _despite_ fear not because of it.”

Bobby shook his head, watching Mihr. “Yeah, well, the experiences we’ve had with angels haven’t exactly inspired trust.”

Mihr drifted over to the fridge, opened the door and peered inside. “Food!” she exclaimed and Castiel sighed. Perhaps he shouldn’t have brought an untried angel with him.

Bobby hadn’t taken his eyes off him. All night. “I still don’t get it,” Bobby said and poured himself another shot. Castiel wanted to chide him for drinking so much but he supposed that he’d lost the right to say anything to Bobby a long time ago.

“What is it you are still questioning?” Castiel asked. He’d remembered things more clearly and the thing that shamed him the most was his deal with Crowley. That an angel of the Lord would make a deal with the King of Hell still made him shudder.

“Why now?” Bobby asked and took another sip. “Why are you here now?”

Castiel watched Mihr pull out a jug of milk and pour herself a glass. Her delight in the taste was obvious as she closed her eyes and made a small noise of pleasure. “I’m not sure,” he admitted and turned back to Bobby. “Something made me remember what had happened with you and Sam and Dean.” Once more Castiel saw green eyes in his mind and the terrible sorrow in them made him flinch.

“So you forgot us?” Bobby watched him carefully.

“It would seem so, yes,” Castiel nodded.

“What made you start remembering again?” Bobby’s gaze never left him.

“I don’t know.” And this what made Castiel uncomfortable. The fact that he was remembering his life as an angel was a source of confusion.

“Hmm,” Bobby didn’t say anything more and just drank his whiskey.

The low growl of a car made them all look up. _Dean_ Castiel wasn’t sure why, but his mortal form reacted in a way that was most peculiar. He could feel his heart beating faster and the palms of his hands getting damp; he just could not understand what was happening to him.

The engine cut off, car doors slammed and the front door opened. Castiel watched the two men coming into the sitting room and something inside him clicked into place when he met stormy green eyes.

 _Dean_.

********************************

Dean looked at Bobby first, just wanting to make sure that he was okay and he only turned his gaze to Castiel once he’d received a nod from Bobby. He decided to let Castiel be the first to speak. He probably should have told Sam to play it cool.

“Hey Cas,” Sam went up to him and stood there, obviously almost ready to throw his arms around him. Dean wanted to shake his little brother. Seriously, what genetic fuck-up had happened to give him a baby brother who for-fucking-gave everyone. No matter that they’d been the one who had sent him straight into Crazy Town.

“Sam,” Castiel’s voice was the same - deep, rough - and Dean felt the recognition of him resound deep into his bones. “You appear well.”

Sam finally remembered Dean and looked over at him helplessly. “I…” and then Cas reached out and touched his forehead. Sam went rigid and Dean hurtled forward, ready to shove Sam out of harm’s way.

“Death has been here,” Castiel noted and Dean grabbed Sam’s arm, pulled him back and behind him.

“Keep your fucking hands off him,” Dean hissed, all the resentment and anger that had been building over the past year bubbling up to the surface. “You almost killed him, you fucking shit excuse for an angel.” He was furious and the words shot out of him like bullets of rage. “You tore down the wall so that we wouldn’t come after you and left Sam to go mad or die.”

Castiel looked at him and Dean refused to see the sadness in the deep blue eyes. “I made a mistake,” Castiel admitted and a gasp from the kitchen made Dean look over. The woman standing there was stunning. She had long sable brown hair and big golden eyes and she looked about twenty-five.

“You should not speak to our Lord in that way,” she chided and came towards them.

Dean’s mouth tightened and he glared at Castiel. “You brought a fucking bodyguard with you?” he asked incredulously.

Castiel held out a hand to the woman. “It is alright, Mihr,” he assured her. “This is just their way.”

Sam met Dean’s eyes and shrugged.

“Send her away,” Dean demanded. “She’s not part of this.”

Mihr opened her mouth to protest and Castiel shook his head. “I think perhaps it would be best if you leave.”

“You should not take orders from humans,” she told him.

Castiel looked at Dean and something in that exchange of glances gave Dean the first glimmer of hope that he’d felt in what seemed like forever. “These humans are different,” he told her and pointed to Sam. “This was Lucifer’s vessel.” Her eyes went wide and Castiel pointed to Dean, “and this was Michael’s.”

Mihr looked between them and Dean could practically see her mind working. “But Michael and Lucifer are still in the cage and they are here?”

Dean frowned. “How much did Heaven know about what was going on down here?” he asked.

Castiel took a deep breath and his reply was like a gut punch. “I removed most of the memories of that battle from the minds of the angels,” he confessed.

“You made them forget?” he asked and he didn’t even want to imagine the kind of power that involved.

“Yes,” Castiel said and he touched Mihr’s cheek. “I didn’t want them to remember the fact that we were fighting against one another.”

“Do they even remember the old god?” Sam asked and Dean wanted to cheer his little brother on when he heard the edge in his voice.

Mihr appeared puzzled. “I don’t understand,” she said and Dean could see the confusion in her face.

“I know,” Castiel said. He pressed two fingers to her forehead and she vanished.

Dean’s lip curled. “So you’ve ruled by lying to them all,” he noted and all the disgust he felt was in his voice. “Good to see that nothing’s changed.”

Castiel’s face was a blank slate and Dean remembered his first encounters with the angel. This was the Castiel who had pulled him out of Hell, emotionless, cold and uncaring. “I am here because I made mistakes. I need to make amends to you and Sam,” he said and his voice was winter-ice.

“Why bother?” Dean scoffed and went over to Bobby to help himself to a shot of whiskey. He met Bobby’s eyes and for a moment allowed all his confusion to show.

“I don’t know,” Castiel declared. “I just had to.”

Dean tossed the shot back, hissed in the burn of the alcohol and turned back to Castiel. “What do you want from us?”

Castiel looked at Sam. “I would heal him completely if you would let me.” He frowned. “Death merely patched over the wound, I want to make it disappear.”

“Why?” Sam asked and Dean finally heard the anger that should have made Sam punch Castiel’s lights out at first sight. “I’m fine, no thanks to you.”

Dean was watching Castiel intently and he saw the barely visible flinch. “I promised that I would come back and save you.” Castiel appeared completely sincere and Dean found that he wanted to believe him, despite all evidence to the contrary.

“No thanks,” Sam dismissed him and went to get a beer from the fridge. “I don’t trust you anymore.”

Castiel’s sigh was a breeze that shivered through the room. Dean felt it cut right through him and it burned with cold. “I understand your reluctance to believe or trust my motives.” He took a step towards Sam and Dean made a noise of protest. Castiel stopped and stared at Dean. “I won’t harm him,” he said and Dean could swear that there was hurt in those dark blue eyes.

“You can’t blame them for not trusting you, Castiel,” Bobby’s words startled them all and they looked over at him. “You lied to us, betrayed us, threatened us and ultimately deserted us.”

“Yes,” Castiel nodded. “But I did it because I thought it was for the best for everyone.”

“No,” Dean asserted and his throat felt raw. “You did it for yourself, for power.”

“No,” Castiel refuted and he moved towards Dean until he was standing well into his personal space. “I did it for you.”

Dean wanted to protest, to deny but the absolute honesty in Castiel’s face was proof of the truth of his words. “I didn’t ask you for anything.”

“You always wanted everything from me,” Castiel said and his eyes were dark pools of eternity.

Dean’s entire body was shaking. “Stop,” he whispered and barely recognised his own voice.

Castiel raised a hand and ran the back of it down Dean’s cheek. “I forgot how you make me feel,” he murmured and the words resonated deep inside Dean.

“Well, isn’t this a pretty picture?” The caustic tone broke into the too-quiet room and Dean just knew who it was.

“Crowley,” Castiel’s face changed and his eyes narrowed.

“Hello there, Cas,” Crowley’s eyes were hard and in complete contrast to his voice. “Or should I say, Judas?”

Sam made a noise and Dean looked over at him. His brother’s face was pale and he was sweating heavily. “Sammy?” Dean asked, taking a step towards him.

“I feel…” Sam’s eyes were terrified as he looked over at Dean. “Dean,” and he dropped to the floor. Dean and Bobby were at his side a second later, turning him over.

“What the fuck did you do to him?” Dean snarled at the two non-humans in the room.

“I didn’t do anything,” Castiel replied and he stared at Crowley.

“Don’t look at me, mate,” the King of Hell put his hands up. “I’m not here to mess with you boys. I’m here to clear the air with our friend, the Great Betrayer.” His smile was all teeth.

“Then who did this?” Dean demanded, pushing Sam’s hair away from his forehead.

“I did,” a new voice answered him and all eyes went to the corner of the room. A man in a white suit sat in the big armchair, smiling at them.

“Chuck?” Dean asked.

Chuck saluted him with two fingers. “Good to see you again, Dean.” He got up and walked over to them. “Sam,” His face was sombre as He looked down at Sam. “What a mess,” He sighed. He crouched down and put a hand on Sam’s face.

Sam groaned and whimpered and then his eyes opened. “Chuck?” he asked.

The author of the ‘Supernatural’ series of books and former prophet of the Lord smiled at him. “Feel better?” He asked and offered Sam a hand.

Sam nodded, took Chuck’s hand and got to his feet. “It’s all gone,” he marvelled. “Even the faint dream echoes.” Something in Sam’s voice gave Dean the first glimmer of hope he’d had in a very long time.

“I’m sorry for what my children have put you through,” Chuck said and Dean stared.

“ _Your_ children?” The inflection was exactly the same in both Dean and Sam’s voices as they asked the same question at the same time.

“Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?” Crowley demanded and Chuck turned slowly to face him. Dean never wanted that particular expression directed at him.

“Crowley,” Chuck greeted him and Dean watched Crowley go white.

The King of Hell dropped to the floor, forehead pressed to the ground. “I’m so sorry,” Crowley sounded terrified. “I didn’t recognise you.”

Dean stared at Crowley. This was the first time he’d ever seen Crowley afraid. “Okay, what the fuck is the deal with ...?”

Castiel knelt down. “My Lord,” he lowered his gaze. “We thought you had forsaken us.”

“My Lord?” Bobby gaped at Chuck. “What is he talking about, Chuck?”

Chuck smiled and Dean saw that His eyes were like windows into the universe; looking into them was like staring into an ocean of stars. “I may have misled you about exactly who I am,” he said.

“You’re a prophet,” Sam rubbed his head, trying to erase an ache that no longer existed.

“I’m _the_ prophet,” Chuck told him and His mouth quirked in a wry grin.

“I don’t understand,” Sam said.

“He’s my father,” Castiel stood and there was something resigned about the set of his shoulders.

“And mine,” Crowley added. He stayed down, not looking up at anyone. Dean wanted to kiss Chuck, if only for the fact that he’d made Crowley piss his pants.

“Get up, demon,” Chuck ordered and Crowley stood, keeping his eyes lowered.

“Your father?” Dean asked and he looked between the three of them. “Does that make you…?”

“God?” Chuck raised an eyebrow. “Indeed it does, my son.” He held up His hands as though warding Dean off. “Well, you are!” He insisted.

“What about Becky?” Sam blurted and Dean stared at him incredulously. “What?” Sam asked and crossed his arms. “She was totally in love with him!”

“Oh my god!” Bobby threw up his hands. “I swear the two of you have more estrogen than any woman I’ve ever known.”

Sam’s mouth went pinched and Dean just knew he was going to start defending his honour so he stepped in. “So Chuck, you’re trying to tell me that you’re the big kahuna?”

“It’s true,” Castiel admitted. “The vessel is not important but I can see my Father in his eyes.”

Dean watched Castiel carefully. “Where does that leave you then?”

Castiel shook his head and looked at Chuck. “I don’t know.”

Chuck walked over to Castiel and put a hand on his shoulder. “The first order of business is to send them back to where they belong.”

Castiel blinked. And then he screamed. Dean wasn’t even aware that he was moving before he had Castiel in his arms and they both hit the floor.

********************************

Castiel felt every soul being ripped out of him.

One by one.

It was excruciating and Castiel couldn’t remember pain like this before. Each soul was torn from him as though being pulled through the pores of his skin. Thousands upon thousands of them, one after the other being sent back to Purgatory.

He staggered beneath the agony and was vaguely aware of arms around him. He opened his eyes and met Dean’s gaze.

“Why are you helping me?” he gasped and writhed as another few souls cut their way out of his skin.

“Because you were my friend once,” Dean told him and wrapped himself tighter around Castiel as the pain continued. He heard Dean yell at the Father, “isn’t there an easier way to do this?” before the next wave of souls departed.

“No,” his Father replied and there was genuine regret in His voice. “Castiel committed the error of believing that he could be like me and he must pay the penalty.”

“You weren’t around!” Dean shouted and Castiel marvelled at this human. This man whom he had betrayed and abandoned was still defending him. “The angels were at war in heaven! What the fuck choice did you give him?”

Suddenly the pain stopped and Castiel opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Dean and the wave of love that crashed through him was almost as overwhelming as the pain had been.

“You’re right,” his Father admitted and He crouched down next to them. “I left you and your brothers to manage things alone.”

“I tried to do the best I could,” Castiel told Him and his voice was hoarse. “I didn’t know what else to do. Raphael…”

God pressed a hand to His mouth. “I know my children,” He said and His mouth quirked. “With Michael and Lucifer out of the way, Raphael would have tried to take over.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel sagged in Dean’s arms and was grateful when they tightened around him once more. He thought for a moment that he could be quite happy here.

“I’m the one who should be apologising,” the Father reminded him and then He looked over at Crowley. “I haven’t forgotten your part in this.”

Crowley scowled. “My existence has never been that easy.” He blanched when Chuck’s gaze turned glacial. “I mean, I don’t doubt it, Father.”

Dean got slowly to his feet and helped Castiel up. Sam came over to his brother, stood at his shoulder, at Castiel’s back.

“So now what?” Dean asked and Castiel waited to hear his Father’s judgement.

“I must punish Castiel for the crimes he has committed,” Chuck appeared regretful. “He has assumed a position far above his station.”

“Who gets to punish you for leaving the world in the hands of a bunch of psychotic angels?” Dean demanded and his Father’s mouth hardened.

“You dare to question me?” He asked.

“You’re damn right I dare,” Dean was furious and Castiel wanted to warn him, hold him back, stop him from challenging the Father of All. “When you decided to take your mini vacation, what the fuck did you think would happen?”

God glared at Dean. “I expected my children to behave themselves until I returned!”

“Did you tell them you were coming back?” Sam’s quiet question seemed to stump Him and He stopped.

“What?” He asked.

“They didn’t know that you were coming back,” Sam said and he waved at Castiel and Crowley. “They thought that you’d left them entirely and that they were on their own.”

His Father looked dumbstruck. “I was _always_ coming back,” He protested.

“They didn’t know,” Sam repeated and the thought finally seemed to get through to Him.

“You thought that I had abandoned you completely?” He asked Castiel.

Castiel nodded. “You didn’t answer our prayers, not even Michael’s. We thought…” he swayed a little and Sam wrapped an arm around his waist.

“I would _never_ forsake you or your brothers like that,” He said.

“No one could find you,” Castiel told Him. “We tried everything to locate you.”

“They even used my amulet,” Dean added and Castiel felt something more than pain lurch in his heart.

“You threw it away,” he remembered.

Dean’s gaze met his. “It was useless,” he reminded Castiel but he kept his arm around him.

“I heard you,” the Father told them and regret coloured His voice. “But I needed time.”

“Did you need to go and find yourself?” Bobby’s sarcastic request made them all stare at him. “It’s a good thing I stopped believing in you a long time ago, ‘cause let me tell you that you’re mighty disappointing up close.”

God took a breath and closed His eyes. When He opened them again, He allowed them all to see the power within. It whispered through the house, stroked across their skin and burrowed into their minds. “I am God and you _will_ show me some respect!” His voice was a thunderbolt and Castiel shuddered beneath its weight.

“You don’t scare me,” Bobby informed Him and Castiel wanted to warn him, caution him to stand down but the Lord started laughing.

“You have the balls of twenty archangels, Bobby Singer,” He told him. “Now be quiet.” Bobby opened his mouth to say something but no sound came out. He settled for glaring at the Father.

“Would anyone mind terribly if I just headed back downstairs?” Crowley asked but then he winced as some unseen pressure held him in place. “Or I’ll just wait here then, shall I?”

God walked over to him, hunkered down in front of him and met his gaze. “You came up with the plan to rape Purgatory, didn’t you?”

Crowley’s shoulders hunched up towards his ears. “It was a pretty good plan,” he whined. “It would have been an even better plan if Castiel hadn’t sold me out for a couple of thousand souls.” He sounded honestly peeved about it.

“You’re a demon, Crowley,” He reminded him. “My angel would have been in even more trouble if he’d actually allowed you to have any of the souls.”

Crowley was practically pouting. “But it was _my_ plan,” he protested.

The Lord put a hand on his shoulder. “All souls are mine, be they in Heaven, Hell or Purgatory. They all belong to me.”

“I just wanted to borrow them for a while,” Crowley said.

He looked over at Castiel. “Watching me sending the souls back to Purgatory just now,” He turned back to Crowley, “can you say that you would have been able to bear that pain?”

Crowley smiled briefly. “I’m not one for receiving pain,” he admitted. “I prefer administering it.”

“You just don’t know when to stop, do you?” Chuck shook his head.

Crowley’s shoulders hunched even further. “Hello. Demon?” He accompanied the question with an attempted glare at Chuck.

Castiel wondered just when Crowley had lost his mind because he was almost begging his Father to punish him.

“What would you do if I decided to let Lucifer out of his cage?” the Father’s question was almost idle and Castiel felt every muscle in his body tense up. The Winchesters reacted in exactly the same way.

“I’d say that you were bloody insane,” Crowley spat, careless now, aware that there was nothing left to lose.

“But he’s my son,” He said and Castiel felt his heart drop. “Michael is there with him and I’m sure they want to be free.”

“Did you see what they did to the earth, to humans and to fucking Heaven the last time they were free?” Crowley’s face was red with anger. “I’d rather you went back to whatever fucking place you came from and butt the fuck out of our affairs if that’s the sort of thing you’re going to do now that you’re back!”

Castiel admired Crowley’s courage. It was foolish and bound to get him killed but it was a remarkable thing to see. He would like to have that kind of courage.

“What am I going to do with you?” He mused, apparently not offended by Crowley’s rant.

“Let him go.” Castiel couldn’t believe the words that Dean had just spoken.

“He’s a demon,” the Lord watched Dean carefully.

“I know,” Dean shook his head, “but he’s just acting the way nature made him.” He snorted. “The way _you_ made him.”

God smiled. “The reason I love humankind so much is because of their capacity for love and forgiveness.” He stood and pulled Crowley up with Him. “I just wish that my spirit children would learn a thing or two from you.” He touched a finger to Crowley’s forehead. “I’ll be visiting with you soon,” He promised before Crowley disappeared. It sounded like a threat.

Castiel waited for his own judgement.

“I’ve let Crowley go without smiting him,” his Father said and wandered over to the bottle of whiskey. He raised an eyebrow at Bobby who poured Him a shot. “What should I do with the angel who presumed to be me?”

“Thank him?” Sam suggested and Dean grinned at him.

Castiel stepped away from the Winchesters. “I deserve death,” he told his Father. “I fell prey to the sin of pride. I wanted to be more than what I was.”

“Your intentions were good,” Dean reminded him and then flushed at the incredulous expression on Bobby’s face. “Well they were,” he said defensively. “Things just got a little out of hand, is all.”

Castiel turned back to Dean and he could feel the smile spreading across his face. “You are a remarkable human being, Dean Winchester,” he observed. “I don’t think there is anyone like you in the world.”

“And be fucking grateful for that,” Bobby muttered. Dean glared at him but the tips of his ears were still a little pink.

“So you don’t think I should do anything to him?” his Father sounded as surprised as Bobby had looked. “Even after what he did to you?”

“Well, he behaved like an angel,” Dean muttered. “So basically he was a dick and he threatened us and fucked up Sam’s head.”

“But he didn’t actually do any damage to us,” Sam pointed out and Dean nodded.

“Yeah, apart from the betrayal and turning your brain to mincemeat and everything.” Dean looked away then.

Castiel felt his pain as though it were his own. “I’m so very sorry for how I treated you,” and suddenly it felt like there was no one else in the room.

Dean shrugged. “Like I said, you acted like the guy I met after I came back from Hell.” He didn’t look at Castiel.

“But I wasn’t that angel anymore.” Castiel took a step back towards Dean. “You changed me.”

Dean lifted his gaze then and Castiel felt everything that Dean had always made him feel clutch at his chest and he sucked in a breath. “I love you,” he told Dean and he sounded as amazed as he felt.

********************************

Dean stared at Cas Suddenly, this _was_ Cas, his friend and brother-in-arms, his own personal saviour. It wasn’t Castiel, the would-be god, the traitor who’d terrified him and sort of broke his heart.

“What?” he squeaked.

Sam opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again, shaking his head. “Sorry, bro, you’re on your own here.”

Bobby poured a double shot of whiskey and stood after he’d tossed it back. “I’m going to …find something very important to do,” he said. Fucking coward. “Excuse me, your Worship.” He nodded to Chuck and fled the house.

Sam pointed at Bobby’s back. “I’m going to help him do the important thing,” he said and practically ran after Bobby. Sammy was such a pussy.

Chuck - Dean was never going to be able to think of him as God - looked at the two of them. “Well, you sure know how to clear a room, Cas,” he noted and grinned. “So, if Dean doesn’t want me to punish you then just what am I supposed to do with you?”

Dean watched Cas and saw fear in his eyes. He’d never seen that expression on Castiel’s face except when he’d been facing Michael and Lucifer and given his life for them. For him.

“Give him to me,” Dean heard the words coming out of his mouth but he couldn’t actually believe he was saying them.

Chuck arched an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” he drawled and Dean felt his face go red.

“I mean, leave him here on earth with us.” He shrugged. “Take away his angel mojo, make him mortal so that he can feel pain, you know?”

Chuck tapped a finger on his chin. “Hmm,” he mused. “That is just in a sort of poetic way.” He observed Castiel whose face remained resolutely blank. “But is that punishment or reward, leaving him with you, the human that he loves most of all.”

Dean’s face felt like it was on fire. “He loves me in the spiritual way,” he objected. “We went through Armageddon together.”

“Well,” Castiel interjected and shut up when Dean turned a fierce glare on him.

“Spiritual huh?” Chuck’s grin was huge and Dean wanted to kick his ass. “Dean, if you believe that, then you’re the dumbest stump that ever lived.”

Dean scowled and crossed his arms across his chest. “Whatever,” he muttered.

Chuck pondered for a moment and then nodded. “Fine, I accept your suggestion, but I have one condition.”

Castiel tensed and Dean automatically reached out and put a hand to the small of his back, resting it there in reassurance. Chuck’s eyes rolled. “Spiritual, right,” he snorted.

“What’s the condition?” Dean was dreading the answer.

Chuck’s smile was evil. Dean couldn’t even remember Lucifer or Crowley looking that evil; they obviously got their looks from their father. Dean braced himself. “While you may believe that Castiel’s love for you is a pure and holy thing, I know better.”

Dean couldn’t stop himself from looking over at Cas who was inspecting his fingernails as though they were the most interesting in the world. “I don’t care,” he growled. Cas looked up at him, eyes very blue and Dean’s breath caught.

“Well, I do,” Chuck said and he propped his hands on his hips. “Despite all evidence to the contrary, I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy. When two people love each other…” He trailed off and tipped his head to one side.

“I can restrain myself,” Castiel said and Dean hated the expression of misery on his face.

“Oh, I know that,” Chuck waved a hand. “But I’m also not the kind of guy who will tempt fate. So, on the off-chance that Cas here will persuade you to copulate without the benefit of a Heavenly blessing…” he paused and the grin was bigger than ever, “…I would ask that you two get married.”

“What the ever loving fuck?” Dean shouted and Sam and Bobby came running back in. Bobby had holy water in one hand and holy oil in the other, covering all his bases. Sam had the knife and appeared ready to use it.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Bobby demanded.

“Excellent,” Chuck rubbed his hands together. “We need two witnesses anyway.”

“Please…” Castiel’s voice was barely a whisper. “Don’t penalize Dean for my transgressions.”

“My dearest Castiel,” Chuck went up to him and put his hands on Castiel’s cheeks. “You are going to be so very happy as a human.”

“Jimmy Novak?” Cas asked and Chuck shook his head.

“He has gone on to his reward a long time ago.” Chuck smiled. “You will have all the memories of your angelic existence but none of the powers.”

“He’ll still be Cas?” Dean asked and for some reason, that was important.

Chuck grinned. “Cas 2.0 if you will. At least he’ll have all of the wonderful qualities you already know and love.”

Sam and Bobby were looking increasingly confused. “Uh…can someone please tell us what’s going on?” Sam put up a hand.

Chuck beamed at him. “I’m about to conduct my first wedding ceremony in about…oh seven thousand years give or take a century or so.”

“Wedding?” Sam’s squeak was about as manly as Dean’s had been. “Who’s getting married?”

Dean wanted to snarl when Chuck pointed at him and Castiel. “These two.”

“But…” Sam was lost for words.

“They’re guys?” Bobby frowned. “Isn’t that one of those deadly sins you’ve talked about?”

“Hey,” Chuck protested. “I can move with the times.”

“What about Sodom and Gomorrah?” Sam asked and Dean wanted to put his fingers in his ears and hum something from AC/DC because seriously, how had this become his life?

“Eh…” Chuck shrugged. “That bunch wanted to rape a couple of my children. No way was I letting them get away with that!”

Dean felt certain that he was going to object to this whole marriage thing any minute now. He wasn’t in love with Cas and he certainly didn’t want to sleep with….

“Now Dean,” Chuck chided, eyes suddenly on him, “lying to God is a far worse sin than lying with someone without the benefit of marriage.”

“That’s cheating!” Dean yelped. “You can’t use your god power to fuck around in my head.”

Chuck made a disparaging noise. “I never said that I played by the rules. With you Winchesters, I’ve had to keep on my toes for the past decade or three.”

“I don’t feel like that about Cas,” Dean told him and he looked over to Castiel in apology. “Sorry man, but I don’t.”

Castiel nodded and there was something defeated about the set of his shoulders. “I understand,” he said.

“How ‘bout this?” Chuck held out his hands. “Why don’t you kiss and then decide? I won’t force you to marry but if that special spark is there, then I’d prefer it to be legal when you _do_ get together.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Dean demanded. “Becky’s obsession with fan fiction has obviously twisted your mind!” He did _not_ think of Castiel’s mouth or kissing. At all.

“Watch your tone,” Chuck levelled a look at Dean that made him take a step back. And for some unknown reason, Cas stepped in front of Dean.

“I won’t have Dean forced into anything,” he declared and something in his voice made Dean’s hair stand on end.

“You don’t have the power to stop me,” Chuck pointed out and Dean wondered just what the hell Chuck was up to.

“I can refuse,” Castiel replied evenly. “I am still a creature of free will and so is Dean.”

“Well then,” Chuck sounded regretful. “I’m just going to have to end your existence.”

“What?” Dean yelped and it was his turn to shove Cas behind him. “You keep your fucking smiting shit away from him!”

Chuck’s eyebrows lowered. “You really need to learn to show a little respect, Dean.”

“What the fuck ever,” Sam was suddenly shoulder-to-shoulder with Dean, protecting Castiel. “Cas is family and we don’t let people mess with our family.” He folded his arms across his mile-wide chest.

Dean pointed his thumb at Sam. “What he said.”

“Boys,” Chuck went into benevolent mode. “You do realise that as the Father of All, it’s not too much of a stretch for me to just move you two out of the way?”

“You wrote books about us!” Dean reminded him. “You sold us out to Lucifer!”

“I did no such thing!” Chuck refuted. “I wasn’t in my right mind then.”

Bobby snorted. “You played us like Louis Armstrong played the trumpet,” he muttered.

“Fan fiction!” Sam obviously decided that particular grievance bore repeating.

“Wincest!” Dean shuddered and exchanged a look with his brother that needed no translation.

“So, what are you trying to say here then?” Chuck asked.

“No smiting of Cas,” Dean shot back.

Chuck sighed. “You’re not giving me much choice, guys,” he said and looked over Dean’s shoulder at Castiel. “What would you do if you were me?”

Dean moved slightly out of the way when he felt Castiel’s hand on his shoulder. “I am no longer god,” he said.

“If you _were_ ,” Chuck insisted.

“I would destroy the traitor,” Cas admitted and Dean wanted to find the nearest blunt object and knock him out with it.

“Do you love him?” Chuck’s question was soft and Dean stared at Castiel. “Dean?” Chuck asked and Dean realised that he was talking to him.

“I…he’s family,” Dean stuttered.

“Do you love him?” Chuck repeated.

“Only people that you really care about can hurt you the way he hurt me...us,” Dean prevaricated.

“Do you love him?” Chuck asked again.

Dean’s shoulders slumped and he let out a breath. “Yeah,” he said. It was soft and terrifying but then he felt the heat of Castiel’s hand between his shoulders and he knew that it would be okay.

“Dean?” Sam stared at him. “Do you know what you just said?”

Dean nodded and looked over at Bobby, waiting to see condemnation. What he got was exasperation. “You idjit,” Bobby growled. “That’s about as obvious as a boil on a butt.”

Dean then turned to meet Castiel’s gaze and he was overwhelmed at the depth of love he saw in his angel’s eyes. “I’m a bit stupid when it comes to relationships,” he told Cas.

“Try fundamentally damaged,” Sam added unhelpfully and stepped away hastily when Dean glared at him. “No wonder none of your relationships with women ever worked out. They all had to live up to him!”

Dean took a half-heated swing at his brother and Castiel caught his hand. “I have enough love for the both of us,” Cas told him.

Dean shook his head. “Oh, I’m really good at loving people. I love people so much that most of the time they want to get rid of me. Once I love you, that’s it, you don’t get to say goodbye.” He felt more confident now, watching Castiel’s face.

“Your capacity for love is unequalled,” Castiel agreed.

“But I’m not sure about being _in love_ ,” Dean cautioned. “We may have to work on that part.”

“I’m agreeable to that,” Cas said and the corner of his mouth twitched which in Cas-terms was almost a full-blown laugh.

“While I’m totally enjoying all the love floating around the room, I really need to get going,” Chuck interrupted them. “So, what’ll it be?” He looked between them. “Marriage or death?”

“Yeah, that’s a real catch-22,” Sam said and shook his head when Cas frowned. “I’ll explain it later,” he promised.

“Marriage,” Dean heard himself say and felt the calloused warmth of Castiel’s fingers wrap around his. “We’ll take door number one please.” If his voice croaked a little, it was totally acceptable.

“Alright then,” Chuck looked over at Bobby. “Have you got a Bible I can use?”

“You know this won’t be legal, right?” Sam was obviously in stupid-mode and Dean really wanted to roll his eyes.

“I instituted marriage,” Chuck took the big King James version that Bobby handed him and stared at Sam. “Trust me, this is as legal as it gets.” Sam wisely decided to be a silent witness from there on in much to Dean’s relief.

Chuck opened the Bible and Dean could have sworn there was moisture in his eyes as he found the passage he wanted.

 _“And the LORD God caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam and he slept: and he took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh instead thereof; And the rib, which the LORD God had taken from man, made he a woman, and brought her unto the man. And Adam said, This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh: she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man. Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.”_ He read the words from Genesis and looked up at them.

“This was the first marriage. I wed Adam and Eve so very long ago and they disappointed me. Mankind has hurt me ever since. I’d like to think that the two of you have a chance.” Chuck’s eyes were deeply sad and Dean wanted to change that.

“You know I don’t have a rib of his and he doesn’t have one of mine, right?” he asked.

Chuck laughed. “You are imperfect, irreverent, irresponsible and irritating and I love you above all humans, Dean Winchester.” Dean felt his cheeks flush at the praise. “Castiel is part of you and you are part of him, whether you know it or not.”

“How?” Dean asked.

Chuck reached out and touched his shoulder, there where Castiel’s mark burned hot. “When he pulled you out of Hell, he left part of himself on your skin and you left part of yours with him.”

“It is why I can always sense what you are feeling,” Cas told him.

Dean snorted. “You’re so dumb about what I’m feeling, Cas, you’d better just shut up while you’re ahead.”

Chuck held out his hands and waggled his fingers. “Come on; let me get this done so that I can get busy with fixing up the mess you lot have made of Heaven.”

Castiel placed his right hand in one of Chuck’s hands and Dean followed his example and gave Chuck his left hand.

 _“What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.”_ Dean felt an itching on his hand and he looked down and watched as a black line appeared around his wedding finger.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” he exclaimed and glared at Chuck. “You asshole!”

Chuck smiled in delight. “You are branded, Dean.”

“I hate you so very, very much,” Dean yanked his hand away and stared at the tattoo. It was actually kind of pretty, with three intertwined cords wrapped around each other and his finger with no apparent beginning or end.

“I have one too,” Cas supplied helpfully and showed Dean the mark on his hand.

“It’s symbolic,” Chuck offered. “You know, cords of three strands representing the partners in a marriage as well as God, shows the strength of that union?”

Dean nodded. He could get used to it. Maybe.

“Mazeltov?” Bobby offered and Dean’s mouth went tight as he scowled at him.

“Thank you,” Cas said sincerely and Dean just shook his head.

“Well, this has been fun, but I must get going.” Chuck clapped his hands together and held out his arms. “May I kiss the..?”

“If you say bride I am going to tear you a new one, god or not,” Dean warned him.

Chuck’s arms fell. “You are so repressed,” he mumbled. “I can only hope that marriage will help you get in touch with your softer side.”

“I swear,” Dean took a step towards Chuck and Sam moved in front of him, holding his hand out.

“Thanks for everything,” Sam said.

“For what?” Dean muttered.

“Shut up,” Sam told him and Chuck shook his hand. “It’s been interesting.”

“I’m sorry for what you had to endure at the hands of my children,” Chuck’s smile was softer, sadder. “I can only hope that by erasing those awful memories, I’ve begun to repair the damage done.”

“What I don’t remember can’t hurt me,” Sam shrugged. “Thanks for fixing me.”

“It was the least I could do,” Chuck stared into Sam’s eyes. “You still have a lot of work to do and being handicapped like that…well, you wouldn’t be the weapon that I need.”

“Weapon?” Bobby stalked over to Chuck. “Now listen here you…”

Chuck held up his hand. “They are always being watched, Bobby.” He reached out that hand and placed it on Bobby’s shoulder. “They are protected. They will bleed and hurt and occasionally be near death, but I will make sure that they are always protected.”

Bobby seemed to deflate. “Make sure you keep that promise or there’ll be hell to pay,” he warned. Chuck nodded.

“Would you like me to send you to some exotic island for your honeymoon?” Chuck asked Dean.

“I will never pray again,” Dean promised.

Chuck laughed. “Castiel will pray enough for the both of you,” he assured Dean. He looked at Castiel. “Time to give up your grace,” he said.

Cas nodded and Dean grabbed his hand. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” Castiel replied and Dean could see by the expression on his face that he really was. “I’m being given a chance to live a life with you. My grace is a small price to pay for the sins I have committed against God.”

He stepped up to Chuck who put a hand to his forehead. The light the exploded from Castiel’s eyes and mouth was blinding and then it was gone.

“You be happy now,” Chuck ordered them and the faint glow of Castiel’s grace faded into his skin. “I’m counting on you to carry on fighting the good fight down here.”

“It’s what we do,” Dean said.

“It’s the family business,” Cas added and exchanged a smile with Dean.

“I’ll see you around,” Chuck said and vanished.

Bobby cleared his throat. “I guess a toast wouldn’t go amiss here,” he muttered and went to get a couple more glasses. He poured them each a shot, emptying the bottle of whiskey and they held their glasses up. “To homecomings,” Bobby said. “Welcome back, Cas, it’s good to have the _real_ you home again.”

“To homecomings,” Sam agreed. “Chuck or God or whoever is back where he belongs and we can concentrate on what’s really important.”

“To homecomings,” Dean murmured. “It’s good to have you whole, Sammy.”

“To homecomings,” Castiel said. “This is the only home I’ve ever wanted to belong to.”

Dean stared at him. “Seriously?” he asked and was barely aware of Sam and Bobby leaving. “You wanted to belong here with us and not up there with the rest of your family?”

Castiel put his glass down and stepped right past Dean’s invisible personal body bubble and into his space. His hands came up and his palms cupped Dean’s cheeks. “I have only ever wanted to belong to _you_ , Dean Winchester.” He leaned in and pressed his mouth to Dean’s. It was chaste, warm and soft. Cas pulled back and stared at Dean. “And now I do.”

Dean fisted his fingers in Castiel’s coat, mentally thinking about burning the fucking thing and yanked Cas back to him, crushing his mouth against his own. This kiss wasn’t chaste at all. It was tongue and teeth and possession in the most basic possible way.

Dean pushed Castiel’s coat from his shoulders and tugged at the buttons of his shirt, fingers pulling at his tie. “You have to wear less shit, man,” he gasped into Castiel’s mouth.

Warm fingers tunnelled under Dean’s t-shirt and Dean arched into the caress. “That can be arranged,” Cas told him and he turned his head so that their mouths found a different, better angle. Dean approved.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice broke them apart and they moved back, breathing heavily. “I’m fucking scarred for life,” Sam whined as he put a hand over his eyes. “I am never going to unsee my brother with his tongue down an angel’s throat.”

“Ex-angel,” Cas corrected. His mouth was wet and red and Dean really wanted Sam to make like the invisible man because who the fuck would have guessed that Cas would be fucking awesome at kissing.

“Whatever,” Sam muttered. “You two should get a room.”

“Great advice,” Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand. “Mine is this way.” He hauled Cas behind him, ignoring Sam’s bleated protests. “Get ear plugs, Sammy, things may just get a little loud.”

“I hate you so much right now!” Sam called after him and Dean closed his bedroom door and crowded Cas up against it.

“Now where were we?” he asked and Cas stuck his hand down his jeans.

And Dean didn’t think about anything _but_ Cas for a very long time.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Betas:** as always, my awesome bbs dansetheblues  & inbetweencabs All mistakes are mine  
>  **Notes:** Title is from the King James Bible Mark 10:9 _What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder_ written for the 2011 dean/cas big bang


End file.
